Lost Along The Way
by eena-angel2001
Summary: A mysterious woman from the palace of Rohan is revealed to be the key to it all . . . Spoilers for the Two Towers Movie
1. Prologue

Title: Lost Along The Way  
  
Author: eena_angel2001  
  
Rating: R for violence.  
  
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns everyone in LOTR, I only own Aerin.  
  
Summary: Hope is found, in Rohan . . .  
  
Spoilers: For The Two Towers movie.  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
He had gone too far.  
  
Her eyes looked down at the dead body on the bed, feeling a shock of anger course through her veins. Green eyes narrowed to slits as her fingers brushed over the blue lips of her former charge. She could see the yellow stain from here, smearing some of the substance onto her fingers as they skimmed over it. She brought those fingers up to her eyes, anger growing as she looked at them.  
  
Poison. There was poison on his lips. No doubt fed to him in the dead of the night. Left in his body for hours so by the time she came in the morning to see him, he would beyond any aid on her part. She didn't have to ask the guards to know that they hadn't seen a thing. Of course they hadn't seen a thing, he probably told them as much. How could they accuse him and run the risk of joining the prince in the land of the dead? But still, to have allowed him in here, to murder their prince, she couldn't believe it.  
  
He had gone too far. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears threatening there as she tried to collect herself. Growing angry would do her no good. There was nothing she could do now. She could only call Eowyn down, explain to her that her cousin had passed away in the night. She debated telling the woman the truth, but quickly shelved it. The news might make Eowyn too angry to think straight, causing her to do something she shouldn't risk. Not that Grima didn't deserve it.  
  
He poisoned the prince. There was no doubt in her mind of Grima's guilt in this crime. There was only one person who could have done it, only one person who would have been able to do it. Only one person who would ever dare risk something like this in the house of the king. And that was because, he now ran that house. Grima controlled the king, and therefore he controlled Rohan.  
  
She opened her eyes, staring forward at the wall in front of her as she thought of her life now. The situation in Rohan was becoming steadily worse as time went by. For years she had thought Theoden would see past Grima's talk, that the king would rise up as things got worse for his countrymen. But alas, the king was either too far gone to help or did not care to. That filthy man was in power.  
  
But she had held onto some hope for awhile. There were still people, people like herself, that were still loyal to the king and the country of Rohan. Grima dared not to attack these people, for it would quickly lose him the ability to rule over the army. Or so she had thought. But Grima's hold had deepened over the years, and now, he had all power. None were safe, no hope remained while that man remained in Rohan. The banishment of Eomer proved this.  
  
But what need did he have to poison the prince? He was too injured to be any threat to Grima any longer. He had barely clung to life in the last few days. His recovery would take many seasons, Grima had no immediate threat from him. Her healing could have saved him, the prince could have lived. But he was poisoned.  
  
A few tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. She sniffed, turning to search among her instruments. She pulled a silk cloth out of the mess, folded it once and moved back to the prince's body. She carefully wiped away the evidence of the poison from his lips. She would tell everyone that the prince had been beyond her reach. His seemingly improving health had been misleading. His body had been far too weak, too short of blood, to survive. That was what she would tell people.  
  
She wanted to fight him, she wanted to hurt him. But she could not. Grima had become too large a snake for her to cut down. He knew too many things, about her, that kept her in line. She knew that he was always watching her. It wasn't the same way he watched Eowyn, but even more frightening. He looked at her like he had plans for her.  
  
He knew everything she tried to keep secret. Of course, by the time he did, she had been beyond caring. The fear finally was too much, and she had sought out the ear of her king. Surely he would know how to help her, how to soothe the fears inside her. King Theoden was a wise and just king, he would do something about all those terrible things she saw.  
  
But he was already too far in Grima's spell to help her. She had come to him in a panic, throwing herself at his feet. Through tears and sobs, she relied everything to him. She looked at him with pleading, staring into his vacant eyes for some sign of comprehension, some sign of comfort. But they had stared back, lifeless as the prince's were now. Her heart had dropped far into her chest and she felt sorrow like she had never known.  
  
And then he emerged from the shadows. He stalked towards her, smug in his knowledge of all she had confessed to the king. Hastily, she tried to depart, wiping tears from her cheeks. But he would not let her leave.  
  
No, instead, he threw his venom at her. He spoke of her confessions, a sneer on his black lips, and told her the exact thing she had been fearing. She saw nothing of importance. No, indeed, she never really saw anything at all. She was mad, without a doubt. And Grima knew all about it.  
  
He could have her removed from the palace with this revelation. He could claim her madness made her unfit to be a healer and a danger to those she was supposed to aid. He told her the very many things that could happen to her if others found out. She would be ruined, shunned, and thrown aside with all the other vagrants on the streets. She would die there, a broken shell of a woman, drowning in her own madness.  
  
She didn't want to believe him, but he pressed the matter further. The things she saw, they made no sense. She saw Saruman rising as evil, laying ruin to the lands of Rohan. Everyone knew that Saruman the White was a great wizard, a friend to Rohan. So how would her accusations be taken? With only her "visions" as proof? What else could they be but delusions of a madwoman?  
  
And she believed him. Whether or not the things she saw were true, no one would believe her. She would be seen as mad and thrown away. She would be shunned, pitied and tossed to the side. A healer, even one as good as she was, could be replaced. True, no one would ever be able to match up to her skills in the subject, but who would come to a mad woman with their ills? She could do nothing, even as the visions became worse and worse.  
  
She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the things she kept seeing. She had never seen so many of them before, not even when she was a child. In fact, they had been so few she often thought they were nothing more than waking dreams. But now, they were something else entirely. They brought her sights, and they brought her fear. She would see these things and feel a panic start in her breast. She felt as though they were real, but she could make nothing of them. Only flashes, that would hit her rather suddenly and cause her to falter in her step. They took her breath away and left her shaking where she stood.  
  
But again, she could do nothing. Her king was gone, buried far too deep into himself to help her at all. Grima watched over her every step, swooping in and out with threats almost daily. His steps resounded around the halls, haunting her and Eowyn wherever they went. Eowyn was as powerless as she was, forced to endure the man's presence almost every waking moment of her day. The only salvation either had from Grima had been the Lady's brother, and Eomer had now been banished. And as for the prince, well, he was no longer able to make any difference in their world. Those who were left could do nothing but watch on in mute horror.  
  
Something very bad was coming to her beloved Rohan. Something that would ruin her homeland, laying it to waste in a heartbeat. In her mind's eye, she saw only a blackness falling over the land, causing everything to wither and decay. The blackness was different each time. It was either a shadow or a straight line. The shadow fell over the land, hanging like an ominous cloak. The line ripped through the landscape, leaving only devastation in its wake. They were two separate entities, but with the same goal in mind. The destruction of Rohan and its people.  
  
Perhaps the prince was lucky, dying before the blackness came. From now on out, she saw only pain and death in the future. Torture, torment, and chaos ruled the future as she saw it. There was only entropy as far as her eye could see. Surely this was not some deluison, but perhaps a premonition of some sort? This was their fate, unless things changed.  
  
But there was nothing to bring the change needed. What Rohan needed was their king to rise again. Rohan needed Grima to be thrown out of the palace, for Theoden to once again assume control of his kingdom. Rohan needed a defence to be mounted immediately against the coming threat, whatever it may be.  
  
She turned back to her prince, thoughts of future and fate gone from her mind. She began to tidy his appearence, gliding her hands over his eyes to pull the lids shut. She couldn't bear to look at those dead eyes any longer. Those dead, horrifed eyes, frozen in the moment when the prince realized his end had come.  
  
Her hands shook as she smoothed the hair away from his forehead. She looked forlornly down at her prince, more tears falling down her cheeks. Rohan's future, dead in his bed. The king would be crushed, she hoped. The news might break through whatever spell Grima had cast upon her beloved king and he would pull himself through. That was the only hope she had left in her.  
  
She left his side, moving to the door silently. She opened it, seeing the fearful faces on the other side. The Lady Eowyn was quick to rush to the front, blind hope mixing with panic all over her features. She braced herself, trying to assemble the words. But nothing came to her, and the tears flowed even more freely than before.  
  
"The prince has died."  
  
***** 


	2. Part One

Part One  
  
"You shouldn't be out on the fields anymore. Just stay at home and rest for once. And take this, twice a day now."  
  
"But my field-"  
  
"Your field will waste away further if you die tomorrow and there is no one to take care of it," she offered her patient a warm smile. "You toil far too hard. Perhaps your family can handle the load for just one week. One week of rest and this ailment will surely fall behind you."  
  
The man sighed, hanging his head a bit.  
  
"If only we had that much time," he moaned. She only smiled again, patting him on the shoulder.  
  
"If you do not rest, you will have no time left," she warned him. "One week, and all will be well."  
  
"Very well," he consented, motioning for his son to help him stand. "I will rest-"  
  
"Aerin!"  
  
The occupants of the entire room spun around in unison. She frowned when the door to her rooms burst open, the Lady Eowyn running in.  
  
"There are strange men," the lady gasped. "Entering the palace now. You must come."  
  
"What? Why?" she was flabbergasted. But Eowyn was already gone, racing back towards her uncle as fast as her legs could carry her. The healer Aerin exchanged a shocked looked with her apprentices, turning to frown at the disappearing back of the lady.  
  
"Sera," she called, edging towards the open door. "Please give Torat the potion. I will return shortly."  
  
And then she was out the door, running to the entrance hall after Eowyn. She flew through the hallways, noting with confusion the lack of guards or goons present. Where had everyone gone?  
  
Sounds of fighting reached her ears, causing her to increase her speed. The hall loomed in the distance, Eowyn as well. She watched as the lady dove through a crowd of people, trying to make her way to the king. She followed, slowing down when reaching the outer limits of the crowd.  
  
She edged her way through the gathered people, seeing Grima's men laying on the floor in pain as she made progress. When she broke free, she turned immediately to see the king being confronted by a tall man dressed in white. Her eyes widened when she recognized that man as Gandalf the Grey. She paused, seeing Gandalf raise his staff to the king. The king twitched on his throne, grimacing in pain.  
  
A gasp escaped her lips as she looked on his face, contorted with pain. She stepped forward, intent on helping her king. She wondered why no one else did a thing. The royal guard was standing idly in the hall while this wizard performed some magic on their king! Why were they just standing there?  
  
A hand on her arm stopped her movement. It wasn't a grab per say, but more like a brush of contact, very light but enough to draw her attention. She turned, looking into clear blue eyes. And in a flash of light, she was taken away.  
  
A sight hit her, like so many others had in her life. She saw nothing clearly, but this creature with long blonde hair moving rather slowly on top of a woman. She couldn't see her face but felt the heat radiating from both participants. It was just so intoxicating . . .  
  
And again with a flash, she was back. The creature, an Elf she could see by now, was staring at her. He shook his head, his eyes going to the king and Gandalf. She nodded, but stepping back rather shakily from him. He looked at her strangely, but she turned away from his clear blue eyes. Instead she looked among the others, seeing Eowyn in front, held at bay by a man in dark clothes.  
  
Grunting and whimpering at her side brought her attention to the left. She was taken aback to see a dwarf there, standing rather triumphantly with his boot on Grima's chest. She drank in the sight of Grima, shaking with fear and panic, a smirk coming over her features. She did not know what was happening, but if it did harm to Grima, it could not be all bad.  
  
She turned back to her king, seeing Gandalf shouting words at Theoden.  
  
"Saruman," the wizard declare. "I will draw you from the king as one draws poison from a wound!"  
  
Her breath caught in her throat as the ripple effect of the wizard's power washed over her. She watched with trepidation as the wizard slammed his staff into her king's forehead, causing the man to cry out in pain. There was a tense moment, when everyone in the hall held their breaths, and then Theoden sank from his throne. Gandalf backed away from the fallen man, triumph on his features.  
  
Eowyn broke free of the man holding her, rushing to her uncle's side. She only edged forward slowly, stopping a fair distance from her king and lady. Her heart began to swell in her chest as the king's frizzled white hair faded back into the tidy blonde locks he had been born with. His skin took back its colour, smoothing out a bit. And his eyes, the cloudiness drifted away from them and the king's blue orbs returned. She saw something in them she had not seen in awhile- awareness.  
  
"I know your face," the king whispered, hands trailing over Eowyn's face as he squinted. Eowyn brightened, looking hopefully at her uncle for the first time in the long time.  
  
"Eowyn," the king finally declared. His recognition caused tears to well up in her eyes, as well as several others in the room. A hand went to her mouth, trying to keep her emotions from spilling out of her. The king had his reunion with his niece, under the watchful eyes of the entire hall. Eowyn broke free of her wonder, frowning at her uncle's position. The lady turned, searching the crowd around her until her eyes fell on Aerin.  
  
"Aerin," Eowyn motioned with her hand. "Come quick. He is weak."  
  
She needed no more encouragement than that. She gently pushed her way through the crowd, *accidentally* kicking Grima in her attempt to step over the fallen man. Her clumsy act caused a titter to rise up from the dwarf. She smiled down at him as she passed, biting back a giggle at the wink he gave her.  
  
But merriment left her after that, the seriousness of the situation taking hold again. She rushed past the others, kneeling in front of her king right by Theoden. His dazed eyes wander over her face, frowning as he tried to place her.  
  
"Aerin," Eowyn supplied for him. "The palace healer. Surely you remember."  
  
"Aerin . . ." her name rolled off his tongue. She spared him a happy smile before taking in his appearance. Her fingers flitted over his pulse point, feeling relieved to find a strong one there. He seemed fine, in perfect health, save for some weariness. Nothing a short rest could not fix . . .  
  
"My healer," the king murmured, stopping her examination by taking her chin by his fingers. He angled her face towards his eyes, looking hard at her.  
  
"Your mother . . ." he muttered. "You look just like her."  
  
A smile and a tearful sob escaped her.  
  
"Your majesty did always say that," she replied, blinking back her tears. He smiled at her distractedly. And then his face melted into a frown.  
  
"Dark have been my dreams of late," he confided in her. He made to stand, still to weak to stagger to his feet. Aerin and Eowyn clasped one of his arms each, pulling their king to his feet. He fumbled for a bit, gazing out over the crowds of people in his hall. He flexed his hands unconsciously, looking entirely too small and confused for a split second.  
  
"Your hands would remember their old strength again if they grasped your old sword."  
  
Theoden seemed at a loss at Gandalf's words. Hama was quick to kneel in front of his king, his sire's sword outstretched before Theoden. He looked to Eowyn and Aerin for guidance. Eowyn looked a bit stunned, still marveling over her uncle's recovery. But Aerin only smiled, nodding her head in agreement.  
  
"A wiser remedy I could not devise," she encouraged. Theoden reached out hesitantly, grabbing his sword by the hilt. Her breath caught in her throat again as his fingers remained where they were, relief filling her again as he pulled it from its sheath. Pride shone on her face as Theoden hefted his blade in plain sight to everyone in the hall.  
  
And then he lowered his arm and let his eyes fall on Grima.  
  
*****  
  
There were no words to describe the extreme joy and satisfaction she felt when her king threw Wormtongue out of his hall and down the palace steps. She followed the crowd of people out of the hall, staying at Eowyn's side as they watched their king dispose of the filth that had haunted them for far too long.  
  
Theoden was advancing on the snake, everyone watching in anticipation, when the Lord Aragorn interfered. His arm held back the king's killing blow, saving Grima's life.  
  
"Too much blood has been split on his account," she could hear the man declare. Anger filled her, along with disappointment.  
  
"Do not let him live," she whispered earnestly, all attention on her king. But Theoden heeded to Aragorn's words and Grima slipped through the crowd and out of the gates of Edoras.  
  
Eowyn was celebrating the departure of the snake, throwing her arms around the healer in joy. Aerin managed a smile for her lady, but could not feel the same joy in her heart. Letting Grima live would not prevent more bloodshed, only increase it. She felt it, deep down in her bones.  
  
She pulled back from Eowyn, allowing the lady to make for her uncle yet again. She watched her go with happiness on her face, turning to worry as she looked back at the closed gates of the city. Beyond there, Grima galloped away, most likely to his master's side. And the end result would be horrific for Rohan, she was certain.  
  
A light touch on her arm pulled her out of her thoughts and back into a flash of light. The same sight as before, the Elf and his companion, causing her to warm from the inside out. She gasped lightly, turning physically away from the sight. She bumped right into the Elf in question, seeing the question in his eyes. She blushed, dropping her gaze and stepping back from him. She turned away, ignoring his presence to gaze upon her recovered king again.  
  
The king had withdrawn from Aragorn, acknowledging his bowing subjects before turning back to Gandalf. There was weariness on his face as he spoke with the wizard.  
  
"Where is my son?"  
  
Her heart dropped, eyes meeting Eowyn's in the distance. Tears welled up in the lady's eyes once more at the thought of the prince. Everyone dropped their heads in remorse, none looking to answer their king. Theoden grew agitated, gaze sweeping over his subjects until they landed on her.  
  
She could only sigh, tilting her head to the side and turning her gaze off to the side of the city. There were grassy hills there, flowers growing up wildly and sporadically all over the terrain. Theoden followed her gaze, and then sank to his knees in sudden grief.  
  
The healer Aerin felt a tear slip down her cheek, never once taking her eyes off those hills. The hills where the lost members of Rohan's house were buried in death. A fresh grave had been dug that morning for the king's son.  
  
***** 


End file.
